


Tension

by invisiblereprise



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: (kinda), Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, F/M, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Sex Toys, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 06:45:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20077861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisiblereprise/pseuds/invisiblereprise
Summary: Betelgeuse was lounging on his couch, nursing a bottle of the shittiest beer available and reading what appeared to be an extremely boring book. A little out of character, but nothing would have been wrong with the sight if not for Lydia being hardly five feet away, tied with soft rope to her favorite chair, trying not to buck against the large vibrator pressing against her clit.





	Tension

**Author's Note:**

> Another smut oneshot because I'm incapable of writing anything else? More likely than you think!
> 
> Insert usual disclaimer stuff, such as don't like don't read. And also that I wrote this while on a fuckton of Nyquil because I'm hella sick so fuck if I know what's going on. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Betelgeuse was lounging on his couch, nursing a bottle of the shittiest beer available and reading what appeared to be an extremely boring book. A little out of character, but nothing would have been wrong with the sight if not for Lydia being hardly five feet away, tied with soft rope to her favorite chair, trying not to buck against the large vibrator pressing against her clit. The toy itself was also tied to the chair, but far out of reach of her bound hands, so there was no chance that she could maneuver its position.

Again, she felt herself getting closer. Heat flooded her belly, and all her addled brain could focus on was the possibility of an orgasm. Though her vision had blurred, partly from tears of frustration and partly from pleasure, she could see him out of the corner of her eye, and he was watching her. Waiting. Waiting for her toes to curl up, and her pelvis to tighten, and her hands to strain against the rope as she humped the vibrator as much as she could manage. He took pleasure from it, from waiting for her to break.

Her toes curled. She was almost there, just a second more, just one more second—

He clicked his remote and shut the vibrator off, remaining in his lounging position that radiated authority. Radiated control.

This time, Lydia cried for real.

Salty tears tracked down her cheeks as her chin dropped to her chest, her body releasing all of its pent up tension in no kind of release. For the fifth time that day, she was left there, sweaty and frustrated, while Betelgeuse watched her with badly-disguised glee.

“Please,” she whined, through her tears. “Please Beej, I’m dying over here.” As she spoke, she could taste the liquid on her cheeks. It only served to remind her that he held what she so desperately wanted, that he was completely in control of her pleasure. If he didn’t want her to come, she wouldn’t.

“You’re not dying.” He chuckled, slamming his book closed. “I’m quite an expert in death. I think I’d know if you were _dying._”

She couldn’t refute his point, nor did she have the concentration to, but it _felt _like dying. The sensation of another person having control, getting to dictate exactly what happened and when, was just foreign enough to add a shiver of anxiety down her spine. Not fear, not quite, but nervous apprehension.

“Let’s see what to do about this,” Betelgeuse said, having risen from the couch to circle her position. “Should the little girl get to cum?” His voice rumbled across the room, low and threatening.

“Yes?” Lydia tried, not knowing if that was the answer he wanted, or if it would condemn her to more frustration. “Please?” she added, hoping that the slight begging would help her situation.

“The more important question,” he said, coming to a halt beside her, his fingers reaching out to lazily run along her labia, “is are you going to _earn it_?”

She actually whimpered at his touch, unable to rub herself against his fingers for a bit more friction. “Yes,” she promised, with no concept of what he planned to ask, just the knowledge that she would do it if it came with even a chance of cumming. “Anything.”

“Good girl.” For that, he actually found her clit and rubbed harshly against it for a couple of blessed seconds, before removing his hand and smiling at her expression as it dropped. “Tell ya what. Impress me, and I’ll _actually _let you cum this time. Deal?”

“Yes.” The _of course _was unspoken. If the ring on her finger told her anything, it was that he didn’t back out of his deals.

He practically purred. “Good. Now, tell Daddy you’re sorry.” As he spoke, he knelt down next to her tied-up position, waiting.

It wasn’t even a question anymore. Not worth maintaining her pride.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, into his neck, not quite wanting the rest of the room to hear. Everything felt cold and rigid except for his skin against her head, which just felt chilled.

“For?”

He was really going to make her say it. She hesitated, for a moment, considered backing out, but it was too late. She was too close to the edge.

“For cumming without permission yesterday. That was—bad. That was bad.” She blushed as she said it, not quite used to the dirty words that he managed to coerce out of her mouth.

“It was.” He kept his serious demeanor, for a moment, before letting the edges soften into a grin. He switched the vibrator back on.”

“Oh fuck,” she jolted back as it caught her off guard, pleasure shooting through her body, hips not quite sure where to grind. “Oh fuck, Daddy, _please.” _It just slipped out, a word that she tried her hardest to avoid because it just made him so damn _cocky, _but she _needed _this, so she let herself say it. Let him have it, just for them.

He pressed the vibrator as tight to her cunt as it would go. Held it there. Didn’t take it away, not even at the last moment when she was sure that he would. Instead, he let her ride it through her orgasm, her hips jerking up against it as she finally, finally was able to release all of the pent up tension coursing through her body.

“Fuck,” she moaned, a long, drawn-out word, slumping foreword against him, her sweaty skin colliding with his own, her head going back to nestle in his neck. “Thank you, Beej.”

Sometime while she was too out of it to notice, his features had softened back into a good-natured grin.

“’Course, Lyds. Can’t keep ya’ all strung out forever. Who’d feed me? Who’d make sure I had _beetles?” _He faux sobbed, looking just serious enough that she chuckled against his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you all stocked. Long as you keep making me feel like _that _I’m yours.”

“That’s right.” He leaned over, and his teeth bit at her neck, sending little sparks of pain through her skin. “All fuckin’ mine, babes.” 


End file.
